


Recovery

by EllieL



Category: Gone With the Wind
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-12
Updated: 2006-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up as Scarlett tumbles down the stairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

****  
Part I  
****

Her anger dissipated as her world was thrown into a whirl of confusion and pain. That she could die did not enter her mind, for she had come through more than mere falls unscathed; that her baby could be lost flared loud and clear, the only clear thing in her mind.

After a swift eternity her world stopped whirling and the soft wool of the carpet cushioned her bruised cheek. With what little energy she could muster, her hand found her abdomen and she wondered how he could survive such a thing.

The world seemed to begin spinning once more, the warm lights in the entryway flaring and fading. The shadow of Rhett’s face appeared over her and she could feel his hands on her, stilling one to rest on top of hers.

She cried out to him as the lights were fading, but all that resulted was an incoherent moan.

In answer she could hear him apologizing. It was the last thing she heard before silent, painful darkness overtook her world.

***

Sound returned first. The clinking of china on a tray, the soft rustle of fabric, low voices. She couldn’t tell who, or what they said, but she was comforted to know she was not alone in her suffering.

She wanted to call out, to call out for Rhett. Then she recalled their fight and his muttered, tearful apology, and wondered if he was sorry enough to care.

It didn’t matter. She lacked the ability to speak, instead issuing forth with a moan that faded into a piteous whimper before she fell back into darkness.

***

A dull light stirred the edge of her closed eyes when she next woke. All was silent, so she dared flutter open her eyes. A lone candle burned on the table in the far corner, casting flickering shadows on the slumbering form in the chair. She had to blink twice and focus through her pain to see that it was indeed Rhett keeping watch in the night.

Closing her eyes, she was no longer able to suppress a whimper of pain. She knew without being told that her baby was gone.

A warm, tender hand was stroking her hair as unconsciousness claimed her once more.

***

When she woke again, the room was dim but empty, the door slightly ajar. She was feeling a little better, though very dulled. Some sort of medication, she though, tricking her into feeling less.

Mammy rustled in bearing a tray and for a moment didn’t seem to notice that Scarlett was awake. Only when Scarlett tried to speak did her worried old face break into a broad smile.

“Lordy, Miss Scarlett, you sure did give us a scare! How you feel?”

She could only whimper something in response that may have been close to “awful.”

“Here,” said Mammy, sitting the tray down by the bed. “Eat some of this soup Cookie made. It’ll make you better.”

Even as Scarlett allowed Mammy to feed her the warm broth, she knew there must be medicine in it, for it tasted terrible.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she dozed off soon after.

***

Once more it was the small hours of the morning when she woke. Once more, a single candle was burning low, its sputtering light falling on a slouching Rhett. She mustered her will and croaked out his name once, weakly, then with slightly more force. It was enough.

He was at her side immediately, crouched on the floor and barely daring to touch her. “Mammy said you were awake earlier.”

She nodded slightly, then winced in pain.

“You’re still in a lot of pain, aren’t you? Let me go get Mammy and we’ll get you some—“

“No,” she whispered sharply, cutting him off. “Stay.” God, how she was glad he was here. She needed him more than ever, needed him right here beside her. But hadn’t he said he was leaving, before? He’d said he was sorry, but was it guilt or remorse? Was he only staying out of guilt? She didn’t know how to ask any of this, had neither the fortitude nor the voice for it.

“Anything you want.” He settled on the chair beside the bed holding her clammy hand and staring at her. He toyed with her fingers for a moment before saying, “You know you lost the baby.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement filled with sadness.

“Yes.” Her unused voice cracked and she let the tears flow freely. There was so much to cry over.

Rhett didn’t try to stop her tears, simply held her hand as she cried, then wiped her cheeks with his handkerchief when she’d cried herself out. She almost thought she saw tears in his eyes, too. But it may have just been exhaustion playing tricks on her eyes. Even so, the image lingered in her mind long after she fell asleep once more.

***

Soothing hands were on her. They did not wake her, but made the waking far easier. Awake, the pain was real.

“Mother?” she murmured. Only those hands made her better. It eluded her fevered mind that her mother was five years dead.

“No, darling, it’s Melanie. I understand you’ve been feeling better lately.”

Scarlett opened her eyes to see Melly settling into the bedside chair, her protective hand on Scarlett’s. Scarlett nodded. “A little.” Actually, she felt worse now, for the brief delusion about her mother’s presence had reopened another emotional wound that needed tending.

“I was so worried when Captain Butler sent word to me that you’d fallen. I know how…well you’d been feeling lately,” Melanie said delicately.

“I was so happy, Melly, and now…” she trailed off, tears overwhelming her. Why was she suddenly unable to control her tears? She’d never been one to cry.

“Oh, darling, I didn’t mean to upset you so!” Melly patted her hand and tried to soothe her. “You needn’t worry, you’re always so healthy, you’ll be well in no time, and there will be more babies.”

That didn’t lessen the intensity of Scarlett’s weeping. “But Rhett…!” How could she explain the reality, the enormity, of the problem to Melanie? She could explain to no one, not even herself, how she’d come to be at this point.

“Captain Butler understands it will take time for you to recover. He’s been sick with worry over you—I’ve had to make him go eat and rest or he’d never leave your side.”

That shocked Scarlett out of her tears. Rhett was really so worried about her? She recalled her suspicion that he had been crying and began to think that it wasn’t as illusory as she’d assumed.

Turning her hand over, she grasped Melly’s. “Thank you, Melly. You’re the best sister I have.”

Melanie blushed profusely and squeezed Scarlett’s fingers lightly. “You get some sleep now while I go get you some soup. You’ve had too much excitement.”

This time, in the silence following Melanie’s departure, sleep was a long time coming. Scarlett’s mind was whirling.

****  
Part II  
****

Over the next week, Scarlett began to recover. Melly was at her bedside every day, and when Scarlett was awake, provided her with soup and the latest inane gossip from town. She rarely saw Rhett. Only when she awoke from fitful slumber did she find him dozing in one of the overstuffed chairs or at her bedside, one hand on her shoulder to gently shake her out of a nightmare. He said almost nothing, but she could see the concern on his face.

Once night his voice broke through a particularly bad nightmare and she woke to find him next to her in bed, one hand caressing her tear-streaked cheek. Heedless of her physical condition, Scarlett threw herself into his arms, burying her face against his half-buttoned shirt and weeping freely.

For a few minutes, Rhett let her cry, his hands stroking her back. Then he gently tried to lower her back down onto the bed.

“No!” cried Scarlett, her voice piteously hoarse and ragged. She clung to him even tighter.

“It’s all right, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. But you’re supposed to be resting flat on your back.”

She loosened her hold on him and sank back down into the soft bed. It felt much nicer to have Rhett here next to her and she was hard-pressed to recall why he’d been banished in the first place.

One of his hands reached across, searching out hers. All she could feel as she fell asleep were his strong fingers twining with hers.

  
She slept well for the first time in weeks. Only when the warmth of Rhett’s body pulled away from her side did she groggily awake. “Rhett?”

“Shh, darling. Mammy would have my head if she brought up breakfast and found me in your bed.” Even as he spoke, he was smoothing the coverlet and fluffing the pillow, erasing all traces of his presence.

“Oh,” she said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.

A funny grin flashed across his face as he stood at the bedside, staring at her. Then an intense curiosity overtook his features. “Would you rather I stayed?”

She stretched, then winced as battered joints and broken ribs were pulled. “Oh! Well, I do always sleep better when you’re here.”

“I see. Has it been a while since you’ve slept well?” There was a frightening calm in his tone and his face had become a blank mask.

For a moment she simply looked at him in puzzlement. She knew there was more to his question than it seemed, some greater question she was being asked. But she was never at her sharpest in the morning, and certainly hadn’t been at her best lately. “Yes it had.” She offered a faint smile.

Rhett had no chance to respond, as Mammy appeared at that moment with tea and eggs. He used the opportunity to disappear out Scarlett’s door. Both Mammy and Scarlett watched him leave.

Scarlett could see the wheels turning in Mammy’s sharp mind, but neither spoke about what had happened.

Yet that night Rhett settled onto the other half of her bed. Scarlett shifted as close as she could to him. He met her halfway, rolling onto his side and draping and arm across her. No more was said about their morning conversation.

****

A week later Dr. Meade declared her recovered enough to begin spending time out of bed. She’d been bored and was happy to be slowly moving about, even if it was only to go downstairs for lunch with her children.

Scarlett spoke very little, content to let the children prattle on to fill up the lunchtime silence. Halfway through the meal, there were hooves on the drive. Moments later, Rhett burst into the dining room and seemed startled to find the meal already in progress.

“You started without me!” he said, with a tone of false-woundedness that Scarlett thought could only be hiding genuine hurt. He’d wanted to eat with them.

“I’m sorry, Rhett. I didn’t realize you were planning on being here for lunch, so I had I served when I made it down here.” She hoped she sounded sorry, for she truly was. He’d been so good to her these past weeks that waiting half an hour to eat would have been the least she could do.

“I’ve been home for lunch every day the last two weeks. But of course you didn’t realize, and I’m sure you were happy just to be down here. Its no matter.” He started to leave the room, and hear heart stuck in her throat at the injured look he’d nearly hidden.

“Won’t you join us anyway, for soup and dessert? Surely that would be better than a basket to take back to the bank.” She smiled at him, genuinely, for she was happy to be here sitting down to lunch with her family and his presence would make it complete.

“Yes, Daddy, please! We’re having chocolate cake!” begged Bonnie.

Rhett smiled down at Bonnie, but his eyes met Scarlett’s as he spoke. “I can never say no to my darling.”

Lunch remained a peaceful affair, though Scarlett stayed quiet, mostly watching Rhett. He’d been behaving so sweetly lately it was almost enjoyable living with him.

She wondered abruptly if he would continue their nighttime arrangement. She didn’t want him to leave, but didn’t know how to ask him to stay, not after the awful way she’d banished him. The implications of what such a request would mean once she was fully recovered were also forefront—that last night together had been like nothing she’d experienced before, and she wanted that again. But she wasn’t ready to deal with the possibility of another baby, not so soon after this.

“Scarlett? Are you feeling all right?” Rhett’s concerned voice broke into her reverie.

“Hmm?” She looked around to see that everyone had finished their cake and the children were squirming to elave the table. Her fork was still idly twirling in her fingers, dessert untouched. “Oh, I guess this was just a very exciting way to start my recovery. I think I’m just a little tired.”

Rhett continued to look at her curiously as he dismissed the children and offered her his assistance in returning to bed. “What’s on your mind, Scarlett? You don’t look tired, you look troubled,” he said as they mounted the stairs.

“Oh. Umm…” she stalled, knowing it was impossible to lie to him, but it was just as impossible to have this conversation, especially in the hallway in the middle of the afternoon. “I was just thinking.”

Rhett laughed and opened her door. “Always a dangerous pastime. About what?”

Scarlett sat down on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands. “Close the door.” This conversation couldn’t be avoided, it might as well happen now.

After closing the door, Rhett settled into a chair with an expectant look.

“I was thinking about how nice you’ve been the last few weeks.” She couldn’t meet his eyes, just stared at her twisting fingers. “How it’s been pleasant living with you again. And…and how it has been nice having you sleeping with me, because I’d missed it. But then I started thinking about why I asked you to leave in the first place. About how no matter how much I might want you there, I really don’t think I could handle having another baby right now, after this.” She fluttered her hands, not sure what else to say, or how to explain herself.

He caught one of her wavering hands in his and pressed it to his lips. “All you ever had to do was ask, and I’d have come back. And we can share a bed without having children. I don’t want you having another one either, this soon.”

“But you always said that that was…I mean, that there wasn’t any…” she fumbled, at a loss how to discuss such matters.

Rhett laughed heartily. “Oh, I don’t mean to say that we won’t enjoy ourselves, once you’re better. But if you’d cared enough to ask me, I could have explained that there are ways to share a bed without worrying about pregnancy.”

Scarlett blushed, but met his gaze. “You’ll stay here then?”

“The only thing that would make me happier is to have you well so I can illustrate my point.” He grinned wickedly as her blush spread to her hairline. “So get your rest now, and recover. I’m not going anywhere but back to the bank and to your store to check the books.”

She settled back into the pillows, smiling up at him. “Thank you Rhett. For everything.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly and left without another word.

****  
Part III  
****

That Saturday, Scarlett found herself seated in a sunny spot on the terrace, sipping tea with Rhett. The weather was exceptionally nice for the season, and she was enjoying being out of doors for the first time in weeks. Wade and Ella played on the lawn, their voices echoing off the brickworks, while Bonnie trotted about on her pony.

“Scarlett,” Rhett said, taking a long sip of tea, “I’d been thinking that when you’re well, we might start over with a second honeymoon. Just the two of us.”

Her eyes lit up at the idea. “That would be just heavenly! Would we go back to New Orleans?”

“I was thinking of Europe—Paris, Rome, London. There’s a boat leaving the fifteenth of next month, if you think you’ll be up to it by then.”

“I know I will be! I’ve gotten so much better just think week, and I’ll do nothing on the boat but rest.” The idea of such travel was a delight to her, and the opportunity to spend several months away from Atlanta was immensely appealing.

Rhett grinned, returning her bright enthusiasm. “I thought you might say that. Our tickets were booked yesterday.”

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, enjoying the sunshine, until Bonne rode up to the boxwood border of the terrace and called to them.

“Mommy, Mommy, watch me jump!”

“Of course, darling! What a pretty picture you make up on your pony.” She smiled, pleased at such a bold and attractive child.

“I put it up higher!” Bonnie called back as she cantered away.

“Baby, I don’t think…Oh, Rhett, stop her, please,” she said, suddenly panicked, visions of her father flashing in her mind.

“Bonnie, come back here!” Rhett called. When the little girl continued through the garden towards the jump, he shook his head in frustration. “Don’t come crying to me when you take a tumble and tear your dress,” he muttered.

Both watched as girl and pony cantered towards the fence, which had been set at a height trifling for a full-sized horse, but which nearly reached the pony’s shoulder. Just in front of it, the pony seemed to think better of the endeavor and halted suddenly. Bonnie continued on over the fence, a tumbling mass of curls and blue velvet.

Rhett was running before Bonnie even hit the ground, but Scarlett sat for a moment, stunned and feeling faint for the first time in her life. Quickly she rallied and marched to the door of the house.

“Mammy! Pork! Send someone to fetch Dr. Meade right away! Bonnie’s fallen!” Rhett rushed past her, carrying Bonnie’s apparently unconscious form, and Scarlett shuddered. “Hurry, quickly!”

A door slammed somewhere, and Scarlett headed for the stairs. She’d not gone upstairs without Rhett’s assistance since her fall, and it troubled her that she couldn’t run up as she wanted to. By the time she reached the top and arrived at the door to Rhett’s room, she was trembling with exhaustion and worry.

Bonnie lay lifeless on the bed and Rhett knelt on the floor, almost in the pose of prayer, his head resting on hands that enclosed one of Bonnie’s tiny gloved hands.

She didn’t say a word, just rested one unsteady hand on Rhett’s shaking shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the bed. With her other hand, she stroked Bonnie’s tangled curls and lowered her head to kiss the little girl’s cheek.

“Mommy and Daddy are here, baby, and we both love you very much,” she whispered. She didn’t think she’d spoken loudly enough for Rhett to hear, but at her words he let out an audible sob.

For a moment she was flabbergasted. Rhett never cried. The urge to comfort him was strong, but just as she slid a bit closer and tightened her hand on his shoulder, Dr. Meade bustled into the room.

He shooed them from the bedside, and they stood clinging to one another as he examined their daughter. Scarlett couldn’t watch, merely buried her face in Rhett’s shoulder as he held her and wept unashamedly. She heard snatches of “broken back” and “fractured skull” but the enormity of what he was saying was too much to process. When he began drawing up a syringe of morphine and explaining that all they could do was make her comfortable, Rhett abruptly left the room.

Scarlett was tempted to follow, but knew it was more important that she stay here. She knew he would return. Her energy was too limited to chase him and handle Bonnie, so she chose her daughter.

As she was dragging a chair to the bedside, she heard a single gunshot and knew the pony was no more. He had not really been at fault, and another time she would have been angry at such an empty gesture. But she just settled into the chair and removed the glove from the tiny hand Rhett had lately been holding.

Moments later, Rhett returned, looking slightly wild with grief. Grabbing another chair, he seemed to hesitate towards settling on the opposite side of the bed, but instead settled next to Scarlett, who moved her chair a bit further up the bedside to accommodate him. She also reached over and took his hand and settled it with hers on Bonnie’s.

They sat in watchful silence for an eternity, slowly drawing closer to one another until Scarlett squeezed into Rhett’s chair with him as they both held Bonnie’s hand. One of Scarlett’s fingers rested on the faint, erratic pulse at Bonnie’s wrist. Here she could feel the slow crescendo of her child’s life slowly fading away from her, and she was helpless to stop it. All she could do was keep vigil, one hand on her daughter and the other on her increasingly distraught husband.

When all traces of a pulse faded away and the sporadic rise and fall of her chest ceased, Scarlett buried her face in Rhett’s neck and wept. He clung to her like a drowning man, and she felt the full weight of being the only thing anchoring him. She’d never seen a man cry as freely as he had today, as he felt no compunction about resting his head on her shoulder and doing at the realization of his daughter’s death.

The clock in the hallway chimed another hour away before either of them moved. Scarlett started to untangle herself from Rhett’s lap, staring down at Bonnie’s body as she did so. Rhett was reluctant to release his hold on her, and she turned to look at him once more. Gone was the proud confidence he normally wore like a second skin; his face was now that of a vanquished hero, with a hollow, lost look in his eyes that Scarlett recognized all too well from seeing it in the mirror during her time at Tara after the war.

She ran one hand through his hair as one would to soothe a distraught child. “I’m going to tell Wade and Ella about their sister and see that they’re taken care of. I won’t be long.”

He let her go then, and she watched him sink to the floor by the bed as she backed out of the room. His wracking sobs as he fell prostrate against the side of the bed caused the whole mattress to shake. It was almost enough to send her back to his side, to support him as he’d always supported her, but she knew from experience that time alone to grieve is necessary, and she would let him have it, however painful it might be. Drawing a deep breath of resolve, she squared her shoulders and stepped out into the hallway to do what must be done.

  
Scarlett was in and out of Rhett’s room over the course of the evening, taking moments to mourn and to comfort him as well as to send word to his family and hers and begin making the necessary arrangements for a funeral. Only when the clock had sounded midnight did she pad into the room in slippered feet and her wrapper and urge him to bed.

“Rhett, please come to bed. You need to rest.”

“ I can’t leave her here alone in the dark.”

“We’ll leave a lamp lit in here. It won’t be dark. And things…well, they won’t be better in the morning, but you’ll feel like you can handle them then.” Scarlett sighed and looked down at her feet. She wished she didn’t know that from experience.

He rose from the bedside slowly, with the movement of a very old man and the face of a heartbroken child. After a long look back from the doorway, he wrapped an arm around Scarlett and allowed himself to be led to her room.

As she extinguished the lamps in the room, she watched him undress like an automaton, unaware of what he was doing and tossing his discarded clothes casually to the floor. She said nothing, simply slid beneath the covers and tried not to start crying again, as much for him as for Bonnie. Rhett wasted no time in climbing in next to her, naked, and wrapping himself around her. His head rested against her shoulder and one arm settled across her to stroke her side.

“Take this off. Please,” he begged, toying with the edge of her nightgown.

She didn’t have the heart to deny him, not tonight. This was not something she was ready for, either emotionally or physically, but if he needed it, she would allow it. With only a moment’s hesitation, she removed the nightgown and settled back down into bed, a frisson of tension running through her body as his hand grazed her breast before settling back on her waist.

When he kissed her collarbone, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Please just be gentle.”

Suddenly he moved away from her, and she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her in the darkness with a sad clarity. “Oh, God, sweetheart, no.” He kissed his way along her brow and before curling back beside her. “I just need to be close to you.”

There was no answer for that, so she simply turned and snuggled as close to him as possible. His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her close and kissing her, once, soundly, on the lips.

Neither of them slept much that night.

****  
Part IV  
****

Scarlett wasn’t sure she could make it through Bonnie’s funeral. The hand of Rhett’s not grasping her arm like a vise was holding an umbrella to ward off the tempest around them, and she though that the weather suited her mood. The sodden earth squished underfoot as she inched closer to Rhett, who seemed only marginally aware of her presence, or anything around him. She snaked one arm around him, pulling him close, as much to comfort him as to keep herself standing upright.

Not one word of the service could she recall as they walked to the carriage. It amazed her that she made it to the carriage without collapsing, for she fell back against the seat in utter exhaustion. Rhett slumped next to her and took her hand, fiddling with the edge of her glove and not speaking.

She’d fumbled the past few days, trying to find the right words to reach him and had not felt terribly successful in that endeavor. He’d seemed more satisfied with her simple presence, and sitting down with her arm around him had been just as comforting to her. But as the carriage creaked out of the cemetery she felt the need to talk.

Staring out the window but closing her fingers around his, she said, “When you helped me refugee out of Atlanta during the war, all I wanted was to go home and let my mother make everything right again.” She’d never told him much about what happened at Tara between her flight from Atlanta and her need for tax money. His fingers tightened around hers as she spoke. “But when I got home, Mother had just died from typhoid and my sisters were both sick with it, and Pa was out of his mind with grief and he never really got better. I felt so lost and alone—not only was I now responsible for everyone, the person I’d loved the most was gone.

“Slowly I stopped missing her so much, but it was so hard. Sometimes I still miss her. When I was sick, I woke up and could feel someone with me that I was sure was Mother. But then I opened my eyes and Melly was there, and I was like loosing her all over again.”

It was quiet in the carriage for a moment, and Rhett lifted her hand and kissed the narrow exposure of skin between her glove and the cuff of her dress. Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat at the gesture, and she closed her eyes.

“At least I’m not alone,” he said softly, barely audible above the sounds of the carriage as it rolled homewards.

“No,” she replied, raising the hand he’d just kissed to caress his cheek. “You’re not.”

They sat together in silence the rest of the way home.

***

Life in the Butler house slowly returned to normal. Scarlett began feeling well enough to be out of bed all day, and even ventured to her store a few times with Rhett’s accompanying assistance. Much more of her time was spent keeping watch on Rhett, who she noticed seemed to have to force himself to go through his day. All of the vitality and vigor had gone out of him, and in the evenings she most often found him in the library, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a book open in his lap as he gazed off into space. She would take away the book and drink, and he would allow her to lead him off to bed like a child in need of guidance.

She was worried about him, and unsure of what to do. It occurred to her that Rhett had never before lost anyone so close to him and had been unprepared for the blow, making the emotional would deeper.

Going over her books one evening, she found herself staring down at the date, something stirring in the back of her mind. Abruptly she rose from the desk and wandered into the study to find Rhett. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, until she spoke.

“Do you realize we’re supposed to leave for Europe next week?”

“Europe,” he parroted, looking puzzled.

“You told me you booked us passage on a ship leaving the fifteenth. That’s next Thursday.” She sat down next to him on the divan and looked at him questioningly. “Do you still want to go?”

“What do you want to do? I’d planned it for you.”

Scarlett carefully considered what she wanted to say. “I’ve always wanted to see the places you’ve told me about, and it was so wonderful of you to make these plans. I also think that it would do us a lot of good to go away for a while.”

“All right then, pack your things. We’ll go.” Rhett looked apprehensive, but the first traces of a genuine smile she’d seen in weeks flitted across his face.

****  
Part V  
****

Before leaving Atlanta, Scarlett had one last visit with Dr. Meade, who declared her fit as a fiddle and in fine shape to travel, so long as she took care not to exhaust herself. She assured him of her good behavior before returning home to prepare for departure.

They set out early the next morning, the train heading into the rising sun as it sped them towards Charleston and their waiting ship. Scarlett was exhausted by the time they arrived at the ship late in the afternoon, but was startled awake at the sight of the boat. It was larger than she’d imagined, and the sea air that blew over them was refreshing.

She felt a new spring in her step as they marched up the ramp to the deck, her eyes busy trying to take it all in. Having never been on a ship before, it was all new to her. When she turned to look at Rhett, he was watching her with a look of amusement.

“Does sea travel seem more appealing to you now?” he asked as they started for their cabin.

“It always seemed appealing and adventurous! But I never thought it was something I’d do. But this must all be old and familiar to you.”

He took a deep breath of the salty air. “It is.” He wrapped an arm around her as they made their way down the deck, and she thought that he looked really happy. This trip was feeling like a better decision to her as every minute passed.

The ship was set to depart the next morning, so their first night on board was spent comfortably bobbing in the Charleston docks, the creaks of other ships and the lapping of water lulling them into relaxation as they fell into bed.

As had become habit, they nestled close together, Rhett’s arms encircling her as he spooned against her. It felt reassuring and comfortable to both of them, and Scarlett snuggled even further back against his chest, delighted to feel his arms tighten around her.

“You know Dr. Meade gave me a clean bill of health, so long as I’m careful not to exhaust myself,” she whispered.

One of his hands loosened its embrace and slid up to cup her breast through the soft cotton of her nightgown. “He did, did he? I’m not sure that admonition against exhaustion really lends itself to what I had in mind.” His voice rasped against the shell of her ear, low and husky, the warm breeze of his breath flushing her cheek. Finished speaking, he caught her earlobe between his lips, eliciting a gasp from her as a shiver of pleasure coursed through her body. She knew some part of him had been looking forward to this, even more so than she had been.

It took a great deal of effort for her to twist her head around to capture his lips, but worth it as he immediately deepened the kiss. So much tenderness and carefully restrained passion was in that kiss that it nearly took her breath away. When they finally parted, she had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself. He’d often threatened to kiss her enough to make her faint, but this time he’d nearly succeeded.

“Are you all right?” Concern had supplanted passion, and his hand moved from her breast to her shoulder, pulling away slightly and allowing her to lay back flat on the bed.

“Quite. You just came close to your threat to kiss me into fainting.” She grinned up at him, absurdly pleased.

“Maybe we should take things slowly for now.”

“Slowly would be perfect.” With deliberate slowness, she reached up and unbuttoned his nightshirt.

Rhett chuckled and took his time drawing up the hem of her nightdress, running his hands over each new bit of exposed flesh before going on. She felt like molten lava under his touch, her entire body flushed and tingling, but she wasn’t sure if she could have moved if her life depended on it.

When the nightdress was gone and his lips found the base of her throat and began to kiss back down her body, she suddenly found the will to do so, her hands rising to snake through his hair, tousling and caressing as he enflamed and caressed her. Both let out low moans of satisfaction when his lips encircled her nipple. As he alternated between her breasts, she could feel a pleasurable tension beginning to coil low in her abdomen.

Suddenly, Rhett shifted above her, and she could feel his arousal, hot and hard and so near to where she really wanted him. But that thought threw her out of the moment, and the trail his lips were beginning to trace down her chest and lower, over her abdomen, were secondary to the worry about pregnancy.

“Rhett?” He hummed against her skin, almost distraction enough to make her forget any worries she may have had. She shifted away from him and gave his hair a gentle tug upwards. “Rhett.”

He looked up at her with worry and moved to lie beside her. She turned to face him. “Before we forgot ourselves, I just wanted to ask about what you’d said before. About no pregnancy. Because that’s not something I can handle right now.”

His eyes closed like shutters, hiding himself from her, and he let out a low sigh. “No, neither of us are ready for that now.” Heaving another long, low sigh, he rolled away from her, and before she was aware what was happening, was dressed and out the door of the cabin.

For a few minutes, she lay alone in the darkness wondering what to do. Part of her thought he needed some time to himself, but a larger part of her wanted to follow him. Slowly she got out of bed and picked up her wrapper, pulling it tight as she cracked open the door to see no one about on deck in the still of the night.

The night breeze across the sea was cool through her scant layers of clothing, so she padded quickly along the deck. At the stern of the ship she spotted a single dark form against the indigo of the night sky and knew it was him. The worn boards creaked underfoot, loud contrast to the soft whooshing of waves, but he didn’t stir as she approached.

Reaching his side, she put one hand on his elbow and could feel the tension with which he was gripping the railing. She softly kneaded the muscles and loosened his grasp to take her hand in his. “Why did you leave?”

When he turned to look at her, she could see the glint of tears in the moonlight. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

She dropped his hand and gripped the railing herself, trying to steady a world suddenly turned on end. “What do you mean?” With a great deal of effort, she kept the note of desperation out of her voice.

“This. Us.” He looked away and seemed to stare out across the ocean, where its blackness merged with the night sky. “Things were seeming better as you were recovering. But now…now I’m not sure I can rationally discuss a life together and the possibility of having more children or not.”

“Oh.” She shivered at his words, suddenly chilled in a way that was unrelated to the night air. After a moment’s thought, she said, “But if you do want there to be an ‘us’ we can go on as we have been, until you think you can have that discussion. Please don’t just run away from me like that.”

“I’d give all Croesus’ wealth just to be at home, listening to Bonnie and Ella play tea party and you complain about your pregnancy.” He finally moved from the railing as he spoke, wrapping his arms around her chilled form. His words warmed her as much as the gesture.

She couldn’t think about how much she wanted that, too. Sniffling to stifle tears, she responded pragmatically, “Well, this trip is about starting over. So we’ll take our time and do it right this time, so we don’t end up regretting things like that ever again.”

He kissed the crown of her head. “You’ll be sick again, standing out here.” With one arm tightly around her, he guided them back to their cabin.

****  
Part VI  
****

Their passage to Europe was intimately uneventful. They never pushed further than they had that first night, often simply snuggling close under the blankets and being lulled to sleep by the ocean.

For Scarlett found that she enjoyed the sea. During the voyage, she frequently asked Rhett about his life on the ocean, about which he’d previously told her very little. Both of them learned more about the other’s past; Scarlett told him more about life at Tara, both during her childhood and during that horrible time after the war and he told her of his life beyond Atlanta. She was startled to realize how much he’d seen and done in his life, and how little of the world she’d experienced, and when the coast of France came into view she was thrilled to realize just how broadly Rhett would be expanding her horizons.

The journey from Le Havre to Paris was a rough one, though Scarlett barely noticed as she kept her face pressed to the carriage window, watching the countryside roll past. In many ways, it didn’t look so terribly different from home, she thought, but there was something distinctly foreign about it. When she caught her first glimpses of Paris’s pale buildings and slate roofs, she knew she was far from home.

Their hotel was more opulent than anything she’d ever seen, even during their New Orleans honeymoon. It all looked very expensive, but in an entirely different manner than her home. She kept looking around, trying to pick up decorating tips for home.

When they finally settled down to dinner in the lavish dining room, she realized how truly tired she was by the journey. Adrenaline had kept her going most of the day, and it was only the champagne consumed with dinner that kept her bubbling on through it.

“So my dear, what would you like to do first?” Rhett asked from across the table.

She wracked her brain, trying to figure out how she was supposed to know what there was to do here. “The only thing I known to do here is shop! What do you do when you come here?”

“There’s always an excellent opera or ballet being performed, and often quite good plays. But you don’t speak French, do you?” She shook her head and he continued, “There’s also a museum in the old palace a few blocks from here. Unfortunately they had a bit of political turmoil here lately and a large part of it was damaged, but I’m sure that make for an interesting view as well.”

“I’ve seen enough damaged buildings for one lifetime, thank you. And what sort of ‘political turmoil’? I’ve seen quite enough of that, too.” She looked down worriedly at her fish.

“No cause for worry, things are settling back down now. Perhaps we’d best start by going shopping and finding a new dress for you to wear to the opera?”

“That would be wonderful. Only I don’t know about the opera. It’s always seemed terribly boring.”

Rhett laughed loudly, attracting nasty looks from a few of the other diners. “Not once you know what’s going on. You’ll like it, a lot of high drama and pageantry.”

She was uncertain, but willing to give it a try, particularly if it got her a new dress and made Rhett happy at the same time.

***

Scarlett was pleasantly surprised at how much she enjoyed the Opera Comique, even if she couldn’t understand much of what was going on without Rhett whispering in her ear. There were so many people in fine clothes, and even the building itself was like nothing she’d seen before, surpassing their hotel in opulent elegance.

In the carriage back to the hotel, she sat close to Rhett, watching his face in the flickering gaslight from the streets. “Thank you for tonight. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Emboldened, she tilted her head up and caught his lips with her own.

His arms were immediately around her, pulling her close, and his lips were hungry against hers, as if he could not get enough of her. “I have,” he panted as he broke the feverish kiss. “You in that dress.” She could feel the heat from his hands as they caressed her torso through the layers of linen and silk, roving dangerously over her curves.

One large hand found her breast, and she could feel its pressure even through her corseting, as his lips once again connected with hers. He’d not kissed her this way since that dizzy drunken night which seemed a lifetime ago. They could not get enough of each other, and when the carriage ground to a halt in front of their hotel, Scarlett was shocked to find herself nearly sitting in his lap, and quickly extricated herself, smoothing her rumpled skirt, before the coachman could open the door.

Yet she kept close to him as they made their way to their suite. His hand rested firm and warm at her waist, and she walked close at his side, in the protective shelter of his arm. When they reached the door though, she took a deep breath that seemed to catch in her throat and caught his eyes. Were they really doing this tonight? After he’d seemed to sweetly distant for the last weeks, and so reluctant to address their relationship at all?

Rather than going straight to the bedroom, she found herself settling onto one of the couches in the sitting room. Rhett stood in front of her, an expectant look upon his face.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about everything, but shouldn’t we? I never know what you’re thinking.” She gazed up at him, hoping he wouldn’t run away as he had before, or refuse to discuss things once more.

With a sigh, he settled into the chair across from her. “I suppose we should talk, before the inevitable occurs.”

She watched the worry flicker across his face, only to be replaced by a mask of bland indifference. “Can you not do that for once? I’m not everybody else, if we’re going to bother discussing this I want to see what you’re thinking,” she snapped in frustration.

At first he simply stared at her, then slowly the mask slipped away, allowing her to see the panic that he was feeling. With a heavy sigh, he said, “What do you want out of this marriage, Scarlett?”

“What do you mean?” She was genuinely puzzled by what he meant. What was there to want?

“Why did you really marry me? Why should we stay married, when you dream of spending your days with Ashley Wilkes?” His voice was cold, bitter.

“Ashley Wilkes?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought of him, or what he had to do with their sleeping together or having more children. “I don’t know the last time I thought of him. Certainly it was before I fell.”

“So fickle is the love of woman.”

“What?” She was now recalling why they talked so infrequently, for he managed to pose questions she couldn’t answer, in ways she barely understood. “Just ask what you really want to, Rhett.”

“Do you still believe you’re in love with him?” There was a jaded look of expectation on his face.

Scarlett sat very still for what seemed like a very long time. She’d thought she loved Ashley, but she’d not given him any thought lately, and was certainly quite happy to spend time with Rhett. No longer did winning Ashley’s love seem as important as winning Rhett’s. “I don’t know any more. What felt like love for him at fourteen wasn’t the same as the love I had for my parents. Its nothing like the love I felt for Bonnie, or the baby I lost. It isn’t the same as what I feel for you.”

The look that crossed his face was nothing she could identify, some primal, intense emotion that has no word in the proper society in which she was raised. “What do you feel for me?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like the way I loved Ashley. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. What do you feel for me?” she parroted back at him, genuinely curious.

“Can you really not know?” Incredulity permeated his being as she shook her head. “I’ve wanted you since that first moment I saw you at the barbeque at Twelve Oaks. There was something captivating about you, something different that I hadn’t seen in a woman in a long time.” He was quiet a moment, and she wondered who else he might have captivated him once upon a time. Then he continued, “I knew I was in love with you that night Atlanta fell. That’s why I left to join the Army, the prospect was so terrifying, because I knew how you would react.”

“Aren’t you tired of running away?” That he loved her did not overwhelm her, or even startle her. Hearing him say it only made her realize what she’d been too blind to realize all along.

For the first time, he looked at her completely openly. “It’s exhausted me. I can’t run anymore.”

She reached across the space between them and took his hand from where it hung limp. “Then stop. I asked you that night on the ship not to run from me. If you were around a little more maybe it would be easier for me to figure out how I feel.” Her flirtatious smile elicited a grin from him as he rose from his chair to settle next to her on the couch.

“No more running,” he said, kissing her lightly. “And if I try, stop me. Old habits die hard. Now, what would you like to see happen with us, beyond merely staying together?”

She rested her head on his shoulder as she pondered. “I don’t know if I care so much about ever going back to Atlanta. I can’t give up Tara, but I wouldn’t miss Atlanta much.”

“Not even the memories?”

Shaking her head against him, she answered, “No. I don’t like thinking about the past much anyway, and so many of those memories are bad. Maybe visit once a year, to visit….” She couldn’t bring herself to say “Bonnie and Melanie’s graves.”

“I think I’d like that, too. You were the only charm Atlanta ever held for me.”

“Oh, you do run on,” said Scarlett, in her best belle voice.

“What about children?” His question instantly arrested any pleasantness that might have been building.

“Wade really ought to be going off to school, and Ella—“

“That’s not what I meant.” He shifted away from her, forcing her to sit up and look at him.

“When I found out I was going to have a baby, that was the first time I was ever happy to find that out. Some day I would like to have another one, but not for a little while. Even without everything else, after that fall, I want some time feeling good before I go through that again.” The candor with which she spoke surprised even her.

“I don’t know if I can take loosing another child, Scarlett, as much as I want more.” He looked so deeply hurt she couldn’t help but reach out to him, putting her arms around him as best she could.

“So we’ll wait a while. Maybe talk about it again in a year and see how we feel.”

“A year sounds reasonable. We both need time, to work out this relationship and figure out where we’re going in the world. By then perhaps we’ll have a clue.” He returned her embrace, pulling her so close that her breast was pressed against his firm chest.

They remained like that, content to simply hold one another, until Scarlett looked up and batted her eyes. “I believe at one point you mentioned ways to enjoy our time together without risk of more children?”

He smiled and captured her lips with his. “I believe I did. That’s something you’re interested in?” he asked huskily.

“Yes, I think I’d like to learn a little more about that. And I like examples.” One of her hands was already untying his bowtie.

“I’m quite fond of examples myself.” His hand at her back found the row of tiny buttons hidden in the beading of her dress, and she could feel it loosening by the second.

When half the shoulder began to slide down her arm, she ceased unbuttoning his vest and pulled the dangling bowtie away from him as she sat up straighter. “I think perhaps we ought to move this elsewhere. I wouldn’t want this lovely new dress to end up in a heap on the floor.”

She was startled when he picked her up off the couch and carried her into the bedroom and, laughing, tossed her onto the bed. Sliding across the silky bedclothes, she laughed as well and watched as he extinguished most of the lights while also managing to divest himself of most of his clothing, strewing it carelessly across the floor and furniture. There was no movement on her part to follow suit, content as she was to watch the slow revelation of his body in the dimming, flickering light.

Finally, the light of a single bedside candle flickered over his naked form as she stared in wonder. She’d never before seen a man nude, not in her three marriages or time nursing during the war. Her eyes widened at the sight as he walked across the room towards her with the predatory grace of a panther. Never before had she wanted a man so badly as she desired Rhett in that moment.

As he reached the bed, she met him halfway, and in a few frantic moments she too was stripped of her clothing, dress flung onto a nearby chair, other garments much less carefully discarded. His hands set her body aflame, for he did not just unbutton or unlace, but caressed her as he worked, and she was panting in a most embarrassing fashion by the time they both fell back against the pillows.

After their nights of slow, lazy explorations on their way here, it was no longer foreign for her to touch him, and she was just as eager to return his caresses. When his hand stayed hesitantly to the juncture of her thighs, moving in slow circles, it was with a matching movement of her own hand that she answered him, gathering her courage to touch him. The moan of pleasure she drew from him was almost lost in her own answering cry of pleasure.

Never before had she realized how much could be done with a simple touch of the hand, and she tried her best to respond to him by returning with equal pleasure her own caress. Gradual pressure was building, radiating through her body, coiling low in her abdomen. When Rhett applied a sudden, intense pressure where before he’d only caressed, the coil released, exploding in waves of pleasure that trembled her limbs and caused her to gasp and tighten her grasp on him.

He echoed her response with his own as her fingers tightened, kissing her once before burying his head against her shoulder. For just a moment his arms fell away from her, then slipped around her once more, pulling her tight against him.

With a sigh, she settled her head against his chest as he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. “I think I’ll take a year of that.” She kissed his sternum.

“Things will only get better.” He kissed the top of her head, one hand roaming over the plane of her back.

“Good. We deserve better.” Snuggling against him, she felt the tug of sleep.

“We’ll have better, love.” It was the last thing she heard as she drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved.

****  
End  
****


End file.
